Knights Of The Old Republic III: The Sith Empire
by The Infiniator
Summary: Following the events of Malachor V, the Exile decides to follow Revan into the Unknown Regions to combat the threat of the Sith Empire. Meanwhile, Revan, who has spent the last five years scouring these regions, finally uncovers a startling revelation.
1. Aftermath

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**KNIGHTS OF THE OLD REPUBLIC III: THE SITH EMPIRE**

**By The Infiniator**

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**Disclaimer: **

I do not own any of the characters portrayed in this story, or anything Star Wars related for that matter. Everything in here belongs to George Lucas and all the others geniuses behind KOTOR and KOTOR II. All rights reserved.

**Author's Note:**

From the moment I first played KOTOR, I knew it was going to be amazing. I loved the characters and the story wwas original. When the sequel came out, I was a little disappointed with the end, but the game was nonetheless awesome. Which brings us to this story here. The Exile and Revan together against the ultimate threat was just too exciting not to create. So people, here it is.

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**AFTERMATH**

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_A long time ago in a galaxy far, far away..._

On the surface of a rest stop station orbiting a small moon, a cloaked figure strode through a littered cantina. Ignoring the hordes of lifeless bodies scattered around him, the man reached out through the Force and searched the building for the person he was looking for. It took him all but five seconds to locate the Devaronian, still in the VIP lounge seated between his two female Twi'lek slaves.

The figure wore long black robes with a matching cape, and his face was hidden behind a metallic mask, with a long horizontal slit where the eyes would normally be. In his hand he held the weapon of Jedi and Sith alike, the lightsaber. He made his way to the back of the building and stopped in front of the trio that still remained. The two Twi'lek slaves were trembling, and avoided looking at him. He could sense that the Devaronian was also afraid, but was masking his fear so as not to look afraid in front of the other two.

"You two," spoke the cloaked man. "Leave."

The female aliens shot up quickly, thanked him in their native tongue, and quickly ran out of the bar.

The Devaronian was staring up at him, a look of loathing on his face. "So, you're the one everybody's been talking about?" He too spoke in his native tongue, but the cloaked man seemed to understand him.

"And what does everybody have to say, exactly?"

"Darth Revan, the self-proclaimed Dark Lord of the Sith," replied the Devaronian, chuckling as if it were a joke. "You've taken an interest in things you have no business being involved with."

Revan nodded. "And would I be right to assume that you are Slakkon, the supposed head of the spice trade in this region?"

Slakkon adjusted himself in the seat. "What do you want?"

"Last month you halted all trade going in and out of the Osseriton system. From what I've heard, you're even blockading that area."

"I told you, I don't know what you're talking about," spat Slakkon. "And either way, it's none of your concern."

Revan held out his hand, and instantly, Slakkon rose into the air, choking. He clutched desperately at the invisible hand on his throat.

"Yes, that's what you said when I was still surrounded by a handful of your bodyguards, but as we are both aware, that is no longer the case. Now, I'm going to let you go, and when I do I recommend you start giving me answers."

Revan released Slakkon from the Force choke, and watched as the Devaronian gasped for breath.

"You think you can come in here, kill all my men, and demand answers from me?" roared Slakkon.

Revan paced slowly across the room. "If I'm not mistaken, I believe I've already done all that. Now, I know someone ordered you to make sure nothing goes anywhere near that region, whether by offering you a lot of credits, or by simply threatening you, both are irrelevant to me. All I want to know is who it was, and I want to know now."

Slakkon had calmed down. By reading his thoughts, Revan could feel that the Devaronian knew there was nothing he could do to avoid giving into his demands.

"Very well," answered Slakkon. "But I must warn you. There are things in the Unknown Regions people shouldn't know exist. Things even I want no involvement with. The only thing you can hope to find there is darkness."

Revan nodded. "I'm counting on it."

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The Exile sat quietly on his cot in the starboard dormitory of the _Ebon Hawk_, his mind on recent events. Staring at the wall in front of him, he scrutinized its every feature. From every scratch to every tiny discoloration, he shifted his gaze from one flaw to the next, studying each one thoroughly. The room was peacefully quiet, and the silence was something the Exile had come to welcome during his time away from Republic space. Since Peragus, he hadn't had much time to meditate, save for his lessons with Kreia.

_Kreia..._

The image of his former mentor entered his mind. Less than two hours ago he had killed the woman whose counsel and training he had come to honor and respect. Closing his eyes, the Exile replayed everything that had taken place in the Trayus Core. He recalled the fierce lightsaber battle that the two had engaged in. He remembered asking her to yield, and how she had hoped he would finish her. He had refused, but her wounds were nonetheless fatal. Her dying words reverberated in his subconscious.

_"You must go where Revan did, into the Unknown Regions, where the Sith, the true Sith, wait in the dark for the great war that comes."_

The Exile replayed her message over and over in his head. He understood its meaning, but did not like what it would cost him. If he were to follow Revan into the Unknown Regions, it would mean leaving his loved ones behind, just as Revan had done.

_Why me?_ he thought to himself. _Why me!_

The Exile let out a long sigh and allowed the Force to wash over him and calm his nerves. He knew what he must do, and that it was no coincidence that this task had fallen unto him. The Force had brought him here, and now he would have to act. Turning, he picked up the small metallic object next to him. His lightsaber, constructed not that long ago, had already seen its fair share of battles. Holding it out in front of him, he ignited the weapon. The low hum of the orange blade was always soothing to the Exile's ears.

After a few more minutes, the Exile heard footsteps approaching from the ship's interior. He deactivated his lightsaber just as Brianna the Handmaiden entered the room.

"Exile."

He heard her call him, but did not look up. He knew he would be leaving her soon, and the thought of it was hard to bear.

"Exile," she repeated.

This time he turned to face her. She was looking at him with her cool blue eyes, a look of concern on her face. She approached him slowly, her mother's white robes dragging close behind her.

"What is it?" he asked, trying to sound as unconcerned as possible.

As he returned his lightsaber to his belt, he felt her trying to delve into his thoughts, no doubt in hopes of understanding what he was thinking about. He kept his mental shields up however, and kept her out. But he was nonetheless impressed at her command of the Force. She had come a long way in a short period of time.

"Um, we need you in the main hold." She realized he was aware of her prying.

He felt her presence in his thoughts dissolve. "Alright."

He walked passed her, but noticed she wasn't following. He stopped and turned around. She stood silently in the room, looking down at the ground.

"Brianna," he called.

She answered, but did not look at him. "Forgive me, Exile. I sense something is troubling you, but it is nevertheless not my place to invade your thoughts. It's just that since we left Malachor, you seem...different."

"Listen to me," he began, walking over to her. "I don't blame you for being curious. In fact, I'm glad you care." He placed his hand on her shoulder. "It's just that a lot happened on Malachor and I'm still trying to process it all."

She nodded slowly before turning to face him.

He stared deep into her eyes, relishing in her beauty. "And Brianna, there's no need to refer to me as Exile any longer."

She was looking back into his eyes and smiled. "Yes Ex- . . . . I mean Arius."

It took everything he had not to kiss her right then and there. He had to suppress his emotions as best as he could, or else he would never be able to leave her. They just stared into each others eyes for what seemed like an eternity.

"General." Bao-Dur's voice snapped them both out of the trance. He noticed right away he had just ruined the moment. "Oh, my apologies General."

"It's fine Bao-Dur," replied the Exile. "We were just on our way out."

Bao-Dur nodded and led them into the center of the ship, where the rest of the crew had already gathered. Visas and Mira, both in Jedi attire, were deep in conversation. Atton was busy working on the holoprojector in the center of the room along with T3-M4, while HK-47 stood at attention, looking from left to right as he always did.

Those not present were Mandalore, who stayed on Telos to help out the Republic forces, and both Bao-Dur's remote and the G0-T0 droid, which were still on Malachor when the planet was destroyed.

When the others noticed they had arrived, they all stopped what they were doing.

"How are you holding up?" asked the Exile, putting his hand on Bao-Dur's shoulder.

The Iridonian turned to him. "I'm just glad you're okay, General." Then he smiled. "And if you're referring to my remote, I'll get over it. Besides, it's not like I can't build another one."

The Exile nodded. "Good to hear."

The Exile looked past him towards Mira and Visas. "You two alright?"

Both women smiled and nodded.

"These past few hours were a little . . . . challenging if anything," stated the redheaded Mira. She went on to explain her encounter with Hanharr the Wookie, who had miraculously survived their previous encounter and had arrived on Malachor to finish her.

"For a moment there, Arius," declared Visas, "I thought we might not get to you in time."

"Well you did," replied the Exile, "and for that I'm grateful." He turned to Atton. "I guess I've got our ace pilot here to thank for that."

Atton, also sporting Jedi robes, tried his best to appear humble. "Yeah, well if I hadn't gotten you outta there, these guys would never forgive me."

From across the room, T3 was beeping excitedly. Standing next to him, HK-47 translated.

"Translation: Master, the astromech droid wants you to know that he is overjoyed you are still with us."

The Exile nodded. "Thanks HK, and it's good to see you too, T3."

"Statement: If I may Master, I also wish to extend my own gratitude in knowing that you did not perish when Malachor V was destroyed."

The Exile chuckled. "Was that a compliment, HK? From you?"

"Irritated Explanation: Master, I did not mean it with regards to your well being. Although I do not share your good-natured views towards other meatbags, if you were to die, I would be once again without a Master, and quite frankly, I am not looking forward to passing into some other meatbag's possession. Also, you tend to attract conflict that almost always ends in violence, so it is only logical for me to remain at your side where my assassination protocols can be put to good use."

They all laughed again, before Atton spoke once more.

"So, where to next?"

The Exile had been asking himself that very question for over an hour. If he was really planning on following Revan into the Unknown Regions, then the first thing he would need to do is secure the _Ebon Hawk_ for himself. But in order to do that, he would have to leave his comrades somewhere safe where they could easily regain transportation. But the hard part would be doing it without any of them knowing.

"Set us on a course for Telos," answered the Exile.

Atton seemed confused. "Telos? You sure you wanna go back there?"

The Exile already had an answer. "Yes, I want to make sure everything there is alright. Mandalore should still be there, so I'd like to fill him in on what's happened."

He reached out with the Force and discreetly entered their thoughts. They all seemed satisfied with his answer.

The Exile nodded. "Everyone alright with that?"

"Fine by me," declared Mira, folding her arms. "Now that there aren't any more Sith Lords after us, maybe we could treat ourselves to a decent meal and a nice bed to sleep in?"

"You can say that again," added Atton.

The Exile nodded. "Okay, what about the rest of you?"

No one else objected.

"Alright then it's settled. Atton, plot a course for Telos."

Atton nodded and said, "You got it," before departing to the cockpit.

The Exile looked around at everyone else. "If there's nothing else, I'm gonna try and get some sleep."

The others nodded and returned to their duties. The Exile turned to Brianna, who was still next to him.

"What will you do?" she asked him. "After Telos I mean?"

He couldn't tell her the truth. Not now at least. "There's not much a Jedi Exile can do. Perhaps I'll continue my travels."

_Not the entire truth, but not a lie either._

She passed her hand through his hair. "If that is what you desire. But remember this, I love neither Arius Raver the Exile nor the Jedi, but the man, and wherever you travel, I shall accompany you."

Her words had dealt him a blow, but he did not dare show it. "That means a lot to me, Brianna. Thank you."

He hadn't even realized that they were holding hands. He did not want to let her go, but when she turned to leave, he had no choice. He stood there silently, watching as she turned the corner, and couldn't help but feel guilty.

_I am sorry, Brianna. Not for anything I've done, but for what I am going to do._

After what seemed like ages, he managed to pull himself together. Turning, he looked over at HK-47 and motioned for the droid to follow him. The droid acknowledged him, and the two made their way to the starboard dormitory.

"Query: How may I serve you, Master?"

The Exile walked to the other side of the room. "HK, what I'm about to tell you stays between you and me. That is a direct order. Only you and I can know about this, understood?"

"Acknowledgement: Master, you have my personal assurances that any information you disclose unto me will not be repeated to anyone else, be they meatbag or droid, unless you yourself specifically ask me to."

"Okay, now pay close attention. When we land on Telos, I want you to stay onboard the _Hawk. _I'll order the hangar personnel to refuel her the moment we arrive. Once they finish, I want you to go the cockpit and access the navicomputer. Set a course for Rakata Prime, and wait for me to return. And whatever you do, do not speak to anyone until I come back. Do you understand everything I've just told you?"

"Answer: Master, rest assured that I will execute these orders flawlessly."

The Exile nodded. "Good. Oh, and just so we're clear, no one is to be harmed while you're following these orders."

"Surprised Answer: Master, I am insulted that you would insinuate something like that. However, you can be sure that no one will be harmed. At least not by me anyway."

"Or killed."

"Irritated Answer: Or killed."

When the Exile was satisfied that he could trust HK-47, he sent him away. After a few minutes, he lied down on his cot and stared up at the roof. They would arrive on Telos in a few hours, and there were a few things he would need to do once they arrived, one of them being returning to the academy in the Polar Region. He thought about Atris, and remembered how he had left her alive after their battle in her meditation chamber.

_I need to see her before I depart into the Unknown._

But only Brianna knew how to get there. He would have to ask her without raising suspicion. He let the thought go, and after another moment, he drifted off.


	2. Revan Flashback I

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**REVAN FLASHBACK I  
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"That is enough. This exercise is over."

The two combatants standing in the center of the sparring ring obediently disengaged themselves from what was only moments ago a fierce lightsaber duel. The training session had lasted almost twenty minutes, and both duelists were drenched in perspiration. Deactivating their lightsabers almost sequentially, the pair turned to face the one who had called them off.

Jedi Master Vrook Lamar stood with his arms crossed on a raised platform that overlooked the sparring ring. Since he was standing in front of a large oval-shaped window, one of three in the room, the setting of Coruscant's only star, Coruscant Prime, cast an eerie shadow over him, and the resulting silhouette stretched out across the entirety of the room.

"Padawan Falacin, you are dismissed," stated Vrook, his voice echoing over the room's high walls.

"Yes, Master," answered Lina Falacin, still out of breath. She bowed her head curtly towards him, then turned and repeated the gesture to her sparring partner, who did not return it to her. Without another word, she crossed the room and exited.

His lightsaber still in hand, Revan, who had been staring at the ground since the session's abrupt conclusion, shifted his gaze up towards Vrook. The balding Jedi Master was scrutinizing him from afar, and Revan did not need the Force to tell him what the man was thinking.

"I trust you know why I stopped you?" asked Vrook, slowly making his way down towards Revan.

Revan clipped his lightsaber to his belt. "No, why don't you enlighten me . . . . Master?"

Vrook stopped just a few feet from Revan and placed his hands behind his back. "It's that cavalier attitude of yours that will be your downfall, Revan. Arrogance and overbearing are unbecoming of a Jedi, and you have both. This match proved as much to me."

Revan looked at him disbelief. "You learned all that from one match?"

The old Jedi Master nodded. "Yes. Normally, the longer a duel progresses the more exhausted one becomes. This was the case with Lina, but not with you. Didn't you notice?"

Revan shook his head. "No."

Vrook elaborated. "While exhaustion and fatigue began to take their toll on Lina, making her strikes slower and less precise, the opposite seemed to occur with you. As the duel went on, your poise became more defined, you were quicker on your feet, and your strikes gradually grew swifter. For every one of your attacks that she countered, your diligence and ferocity would double, and if I hadn't ended the match when I did you would have shattered her defense."

Surprise and confusion occupied Revan's thoughts as he began to recall his match with Lina. Indeed, he remembered slowly gaining the upper hand as their duel went on, finding it easier and easier to read Lina's movements and counter them. Only then he had simply passed it off as simple mistakes on Lina's part. But now, with Vrook's words lingering in his mind, he knew otherwise.

"I am sorry, Master. I had not realized."

Vrook placed a hand on Revan's shoulder. "You are still young, Padawan, and there is still much for you to learn. What happened here happened subconsciously, and you did not know any better. You have great potential in you, Revan, and I sense that you will achieve much in the future. But know this: relying on your passion to fuel your strength is the way of the Sith. Learn from this, as it can only make you better."

Revan bowed his head. "Thank you for your counsel, Master. I will reflect on this."

With that Revan turned and exited the room. As he strode down the lengthy corridors of the Jedi Temple, his mind remained on Vrook's lecture. According to Vrook, the Sith fought with passion, making them ferocious opponents in lightsaber combat. But if this was true, then it meant they had an enormous advantage against the Jedi, as his match with Lina had just demonstrated.

Intrigued by what he had learned, Revan decided that he would look into this when he next trained with Master Zhar, whom he regarded as one of his favorite mentors. Meeting up with his friend Alek Squinquargesimus, Revan couldn't help thinking what was so wrong with what he had done.

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**Author's Note:**

This was just one of several flashback sequences I plan to include in this story. They will span from Revan's early teachings as a Padawan all the way through the Mandalorian Wars. There won't always be one after each chapter, but maybe after every two or three. And yes, they are all relevant to the plot.


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